


I Hope I'm Old

by FunkyinFishnet



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Angst, Dom/sub Undertones, Hurt/Comfort, Male Slash, Multi, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-20
Updated: 2015-03-20
Packaged: 2018-03-18 18:58:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3580344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FunkyinFishnet/pseuds/FunkyinFishnet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's a strong possibility that Jean-Eric's F1 career won't be continuing at Toro Rosso. He's plagued by pain and doubt. Dan and Daniil do their best to make him feel better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Hope I'm Old

**Author's Note:**

> Set at the end of the 2014 Formula 1 season. Title is a lyric from the song 'Old Before I Die' by Robbie Williams. Thanks to sarcasticmissy as always, for the beta :)

 

 

 

“Is stupid,” was the first thing Daniil told Jean-Eric when he stepped inside the Toro Rosso motohome. “You are not _old_.”

 

Jean-Eric shook his head and reached for the coffee. Daniil had prepared a cup just the way Jean-Eric liked it. Jean-Eric drank deeply and nodded his thanks. Daniil did not look pacified, he just looked more determined and scornful. Considering how placid Daniil was normally, the sight was quite striking.

 

“They will keep you, everyone say they cannot have two young drivers.”

 

“I thought I wasn’t old?”

 

“Yes but you are not seventeen.”

 

True, but the facts were still plain - Toro Rosso _had_ planned on employing two young drivers in 2015; Daniil at twenty years old and Max at seventeen. Now Daniil was going to drive for Red Bull next season, leaving a seat open at Toro Rosso. But no one had been announced, no one had rushed forward to say that of course Jean-Eric would be taking that seat.

 

Jean-Eric put his coffee cup down, the taste suddenly too bitter for him. Daniil frowned and stepped closer, a question clear in his body language. Jean-Eric inclined his head and Daniil pressed into his side, not overwhelming or cloying but still clearly wanting the contact. He was not given to being kittenish and playful like Dan but he knew what he wanted and for someone so young he was remarkably sure. Jean-Eric liked the contrast; he enjoyed both of his boys. He wrapped an arm around Daniil, pressing his lips to Daniil’s forehead.

 

He could not vocalise, in French or English, all that was coursing through him. It was all too much, too tearing, too clawing. He knew that he was angry and hurt – it was not his fault that his car was not as reliable as Daniil’s, that he did not have Daniil’s fresh striking talent behind the wheel, but he was good nonetheless. Jean-Eric had proven himself during his seasons with Toro Rosso; he had proven that he belonged on the grid. Why couldn’t Toro Rosso see that?

 

He hissed out his frustration and Daniil leaned closer, looping his arms around Jean-Eric. Something eased momentarily inside Jean-Eric and he closed his eyes, absorbing the wordless warmth and affection that Daniil was offering. Some things his team would not be able to take away from him.

 

Still, there were other ways to lose what he loved. So Jean-Eric asked because he would not assume anything, not after talking to his team about 2015. He wanted to assume though and his heart twisted hard as he asked “You’re moving on and if you want to do the same off track, I will not-.”

 

“остановить.”

 

The word was said plainly and enough like a command that Jean-Eric’s eyebrows shot up. Daniil dipped his head apologetically but didn’t back down.

 

“You are not old and you are not stupid. This, us and Daniel, I...I do not want to _move on_ , unless you are moving with me.”

 

There was that easing feeling again, that rush of care. Daniil was not usually given to great declarations or emotional outbursts, it wasn’t in his nature, but he always made sure that his feelings were known, in his own way. He was so wonderfully certain; Jean-Eric could see that. Dan had moved onto Red Bull, he had been sure too and he had not changed his mind yet. Maybe for Daniil it would be the same, for now anyway.

 

Jean-Eric kissed him, sparks of pain and fierce affection lancing through him. He did not want to lose everything. F1 had been his world for a few years only but it had brought him a great deal. He could find work in other formulas, he had already received some interesting phone-calls, but they would not be F1. They would not be the same cars or crowds, they would not be this.

 

He twisted and pressed Daniil’s back against the countertop. He began to ruck up Daniil’s shirt when the motohome door opened. Jean-Eric heard familiar footsteps and breathed in a very familiar scent; he was unable to turn from Daniil though. Despite what some people said, Daniil was no blank robot. He had desires and pursued them with an impressive blend of youthful single-mindedness and mature talent and pragmatism, on and off the track. Privately he was often touchingly grateful, for the off-track relationship that he had unexpectedly become part of, for the work-related advice that Jean-Eric offered, for Dan's colourful and informative stories about paddocks and personnel. Daniil never seemed overwhelmed by the fact that he now regularly shared a bed with two men; he only seemed grateful and so content. Jean-Eric often felt the same way.

 

A hand touched his shoulder and Dan’s lips grazed his cheek. Jean-Eric slowed his ministrations and eased back so that Dan could kiss him properly. It was a firm telling kiss, it was Dan telling him to _hear this, I’m right here, shithead._ Jean-Eric smiled into the kiss, he couldn’t help it around Dan. Daniil was watching them, one hand stroking Dan’s back. If only everything felt this easy, this good.

 

Dan sighed and rested his forehead against Jean-Eric’s. The three of them were glorious entanglement. Jean-Eric wanted to hold onto that, onto their shared team-colours and how often they were all three together, sharing so much. It was all going to change soon.

 

Dan leaned back so that he could kiss Daniil hello, the Russian’s answering smile was small but spoke of how happy he actually was with the two of them. Jean-Eric was proud of that; he ran a hand through Daniil’s hair.

 

“Ah, Jev,” sighed Dan, his famous smile absent for once. “There’s no straight answers in my garage either. Seb’s thrown everyone for a loop.”

 

Jean-Eric shrugged a shoulder, he did not blame Sebastian. The four-time World Champion had not been happy with his car’s performance or with how dominant Dan had been for Red Bull. So Sebastian had decided to grasp his childhood dream of Ferrari and do what no one had expected, he announced his departure from Red Bull. As a result, Red Bull had been thrown into very controlled chaos hence Daniil’s sudden ascension and the question now hanging over Toro Rosso.

 

Jean-Eric did not blame Daniil either; such a thought had not touched him at all. The young driver had been most impressive during 2014 so it was logic and tradition that drove Red Bull’s decision; it was well-known that they liked to bring drivers up through their programme rather than poach from other teams. That was admirable. Daniil had not apologised, not once and Jean-Eric did not expect him to. He was proud of Daniil and Dan, a young team, his boys, and he did not doubt that between them they would win many podiums, races and championships. His mood dipped with a suddenness that burned - perhaps no matter what, he would be left in the dust.

 

Dan made a frustrated noise and kissed Jean-Eric hard. Jean-Eric let him. He was used to dealing efficiently with doubts and sour moods. But everything felt wrong-side up, like if Toro Rosso might throw him aside, then anybody could. Dan and Daniil were both sure but things changed, especially in F1, especially now.

 

Dan pulled back, breathless and bright-eyed. He touched a hand to Jean-Eric’s jaw.

 

“You’re always taking care of us; let us have a turn now.”

 

Jean-Eric let out a breath and turned his head to kiss Dan’s palm. Daniil’s hands on him were firm. There they both were, so different but so similarly determined. His boys.

 

“Right here,” Dan reminded him, that smile emerging again. “Can’t get rid of us.”

 

Daniil nodded in agreement. They wanted to take on this challenge, they wanted to stand or move on with him. Jean-Eric held onto that. Perhaps by November it would be the only shard of F1 left within his grasp. There was talk that Jenson wasn't going to get a seat either, with Mark gone as well it was a much younger man’s game. Jean-Eric was not old, not by the world’s standards, but he was older than the young drivers who were faster than him and drove cars that were somehow more reliable than his.

 

Daniil nuzzled close and kissed Jean-Eric’s neck, like he could sense Jean-Eric’s thoughts. Dan kissed Jean-Eric’s chin, nipping through the stubble, up to where he could suck on an earlobe.

 

Jean-Eric moaned and began moving them towards his room. They went willingly. This was his, this world, these boys; he did not want to doubt. He wanted to stay in the driving seat.

 

He kissed Dan, then Daniil, extracting sounds from them both that made his blood thrum. His voice was a low heated command.

 

“You can take care of me. Then I’m going to watch.”

 

Dan smiled triumphantly because he’d gotten his way and because he loved putting on a show for Jean-Eric. Jean-Eric could feel Daniil hardening against his thigh. God, he loved watching his boys together, hearing them call his name.

 

He wanted to feel every moment of this; he wanted to absorb it all into his skin. Because even though he was struggling for the wheel, he wasn’t struggling alone. He let them strip off his clothing and kiss and stroke away his most snarled-up thoughts. But not even Dan and Daniil could ultimately make every trouble and doubt leave him – F1 was always changing and consuming. Now it consuming parts of Jean-Eric and it didn’t feel like it was ever going to stop.

 

_-the end_

**Author's Note:**

> Translation  
> остановить - stop


End file.
